


got me (sun)dazed

by greyskieslatenights



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, but did u know jinhwan is too, we all know junhwe is an emotionally constipated little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskieslatenights/pseuds/greyskieslatenights
Summary: Kim Jinhwan isn't sure what he's getting himself into when he agrees to go on a blind date set up by his two best friends, but a fake-dating pact with Goo Junhwe certainly isn't what he'd had in mind.
Relationships: Goo Junhoe/Kim Jinhwan, Kim Hanbin | B.I & Kim Jinhwan & Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27
Collections: K-Pop Ficmix 2020





	got me (sun)dazed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fifty-one sunsets (idyleski)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyleski/gifts).
  * Inspired by [soft taste of soft serve](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277342) by [fifty-one sunsets (idyleski)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyleski/pseuds/fifty-one%20sunsets). 



> i thoroughly dicked myself over by saying i’d write for ikon for ficmix despite the fact that i haven’t had an original ikon thought in somewhere around 3 years. but i will always harbor a soft spot for junhwan (and i guess part of the joy of ficmix is i didn’t actually need to have any _original_ ikon thoughts), so here i present my ficmix debut.
> 
> thanks so much to the mods for hosting; special thanks to [rei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/concordances/) and [reet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girltalk/) who graciously gave me their blessings to desecrate the original fic (even though they said i didn’t need it lkjdafhalks), and for beta-ing and helping me choose a title, respectively!
> 
> to my recipient: i know ikon isn’t your main fandom anymore but i do hope you enjoy this! the original fic is one of my favorite junhwan fics, like, ever, so i hope i did it some small justice.

“Hey Nani!”

“You do realize that me giving you a key to my apartment is _not_ an open invitation to come in whenever you want?” Jinhwan sighs, putting a sticky note in his textbook to remind himself where he left off before turning to face the two banes of his existence.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Bobby drops himself into the chair opposite Jinhwan while Hanbin starts to rifle through his cabinets. “We bring good tidings!”

“Somehow, I don’t exactly believe you guys.” He’s been friends with Bobby and Hanbin long enough to know that while they generally _mean_ well, their execution often leaves a little to be desired.

“You know how you said you were feeling a little lonely since you moved out of uni housing?” Hanbin asks as he rips open a bag of prawn crackers. One of Jinhwan’s dogs starts nipping around Hanbin’s ankles, waiting for him to drop a stray crumb or two, while the other leaps up onto Bobby’s lap.

The makings of a headache are already creeping through Jinhwan’s temples. He sighs again, closing his laptop. “I mentioned that _once._ ”

Bobby waves him off. “Same difference. Anyway, we set up an online dating profile for you.”

Inhale. Exhale. Inner peace. “You did _what?_ ”

Hanbin drops the bag of crackers onto the counter, wiping his fingers on his sweats before digging his phone out of his pocket. “We set up an online dating profile for you. Also, you have a date tomorrow.”

Strangling the two of them sounds like a much more appealing option than inner peace at the moment. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Hanbin hands Jinhwan his phone, already open to his profile, where Jinhwan’s confronted with a grainy picture that he recognizes was cropped from a group photo from the trio’s trip to the beach last summer. At least he looks decent.

He taps through the different pages, cringing when he reads the biography.

_if you like dogs, short men, and look real sexy in jeans then shoot me a message ;)_

“ _This_ is what you think I’m looking for?” God. Jinhwan can’t even begin to imagine what kinds of messages people sent in, and he can only hope that the person he’s going on a date with is at least somewhat normal.

“Come on, hyung,” Bobby whines, “remember that one time we all got drunk together last summer?”

“You mean the time you two tried to get me to buy you alcohol even though Hanbin wasn’t old enough yet?”

“Details, schmetails.” Bobby waves him off. “But you told us that your deepest darkest fantasy was dating someone with nice legs. Like, really nice legs. Like, wraps their legs around you and—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jinhwan interrupts. Perhaps sensing Jinhwan’s irritation, Bobby stops talking, but he’s got a lecherous grin on his lips nonetheless.

Bobby, for all his misguided attempts at understanding Jinhwan’s taste in men, doesn’t exactly have the best grasp on Jinhwan’s preferences. It is, however, not entirely without basis in fact—Jinhwan does find nice legs rather attractive, although he wouldn’t say it’s a make-or-break situation (drunken confessions notwithstanding). If he had to describe his ideal partner, he’d probably just say he wants to date someone he can get along with. 

(Hanbin says he’s boring, but Hanbin’s type is any girl that doesn’t like him, so Jinhwan respectfully rules out Hanbin’s opinions on dating 99% of the time.)

“Please?” Hanbin widens his eyes and furrows his brow, jutting out his lower lip. Bobby follows in a weak imitation, and Jinhwan groans, dropping his head onto the table. Neither of them are convincing, not in the slightest, but Jinhwan knows they’re about to start whining until they get their way.

“Just one date,” Hanbin says. “If it’s really that awful, me and Bobby will take you out to dinner.”

“Anything you want,” Bobby chimes in. A pause. “Within reason. We don’t have a whole lot of money.”

“I know,” Jinhwan’s voice comes muffled against the table. “If only I could make you fools buy me all-you-can-eat black pork samgyupsal.”

“So that’s a yes?” Hanbin asks, voice far too hopeful.

Jinhwan lifts his head up, fixing the two of them with a weary glare. “Fine.”

Bobby and Hanbin high-five, whooping loudly. Jinhwan drops his head back onto the table, wondering how on earth he’s managed to let himself get roped into yet another one of their shenanigans.

  
  


Jinhwan checks his phone as he shoves his arms into his jacket, cursing when he realizes that it’s already 3:45 and he’s supposed to meet this guy (his _date,_ as Bobby and Hanbin were so insistent on calling him) at 4.

To be fair, it’s not entirely his fault—the high school kid down the hall he usually asks to watch his dogs was running late—but he would prefer to make as good of a first impression as he can, and being late is _not_ part of that equation.

He sprints down the sidewalk, ignoring the strange glances he gets from passers-by, barely making it onto the bus that he realizes belatedly might not in fact be the right one, and lets out a long exhale of relief when he checks his maps app and ascertains that he is, in fact, headed in the correct direction.

When he makes it to the stop near the bakery, he leaps off, throwing a quick _thank you_ over his shoulder to the driver as he checks the time—it’s 4:01, and he curses, making a tight left as fast as his unfortunately short legs will take him.

He pauses once he’s a couple of doors down, bent over with his hands on his knees (maybe he should take Bobby up on that standing gym invitation, he muses) as he catches his breath. He chances a glance in the glass of the storefront, blotting at his forehead with his sleeve and wishing, not for the first time, that he wasn’t so goddamn sweaty. Eventually, Jinhwan decides he looks presentable enough, straightening out his clothes and walking over to the bakery, ready to meet his date.

Only, he realizes as he steps through the door, he’s not entirely sure what this guy looks like. The photographs that Bobby and Hanbin had shown him off the app were either obviously doctored or incredibly unflattering (which in hindsight is probably a red flag, but they’d assured him that they’d vetted the guy enough to know that he was, in fact, who he purported to be), and their vague description of “tall man” gave him precious little to go off of. 

He’s already mentally preparing to ask complete strangers if they were _contacted by someone on a dating profile that looks like me, sorry I wasn’t actually the one who planned this date, I know how weird this must all seem_ , but he feels strangely drawn to a guy sitting alone at a table for two, a bouquet of flowers on the floor and his phone in his hands.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jinhwan says as he approaches the table, hoping his instincts were correct, “I had to make sure my dogs were being looked after properly.”

“That’s alright,” the guy replies, shoving his phone into the pocket of his jeans (nearly dropping it as he does), wiping his palms on the dark denim. Face-to-face, Jinhwan can see the passing resemblance to his profile pictures, but can definitely tell where the creative liberties were taken—his eyes aren’t quite as big or round and his jawline is much more pronounced compared to the slim v-line that filters tend to default to. _Strong features_ , Jinhwan’s grandmother would say. _BIG MOUTH AND FOR WHAT_ , Bobby would say.

At the very least, he’s easy on the eyes, if not a little antsy from the way his eyes keep darting around. Jinhwan counts his lucky stars that Hanbin and Bobby had the mercy to set him up with someone remotely attractive.

“My name is Jinhwan.” He smiles in what he hopes is a friendly and welcoming manner.

“Uh,” the guy says, rising from his own seat. “I’m Junhwe.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jinhwan replies, about to pull out the chair opposite Junhwe until Junhwe nearly pushes Jinhwan out of the way to reach for the back of the chair, stumbling over the untied laces of his black Timberlands. It’s sweet, Jinhwan thinks as he sits down, thanking Junhwe and wondering why the other man’s ears seem to be turning so darn red.

  
  


It’s not the worst date Jinhwan’s ever been on, although that’s also not saying much. College dating is a massive shot in the dark, and Jinhwan would very much like to forget the date he went on in freshman year with a guy who _would not shut up_ about his vintage Yu-Gi-Oh! card collection.

That being said, it’s not the greatest date he’s ever been on, either. Junhwe’s clearly stressed about something, fidgeting with his fork in between bites of his waffle and unable to maintain eye contact with Jinhwan, although Jinhwan has no idea what’s got him so high-strung—he’s always been told that he’s relatively comfortable to be around. Jinhwan tries to make light conversation as he eats his own ice cream, but Junhwe ( _eighteen, undeclared major_ _,_ _answered “yeah” to whether or not he likes dogs, made an incoherent grunt when asked if he liked his food_ ) isn’t giving him much to work with.

It’s strange, though. Jinhwan’s dated enough to know when to cut his losses and end a date early, but he doesn’t feel the urge to do that. _Yet_. Maybe Bobby and Hanbin are right and he’s starved for human interaction besides them, and it’s warped his perspective of what constitutes acceptable company.

“So, uh,” Junhwe eventually says, scratching at the back of his neck. It’s the first thing he’s said since their date(?) began that isn’t in direct response to a question Jinhwan asked. Jinhwan looks up at him, smiling in what he hopes is a kind and reassuring manner, only for Junhwe to open and shut his mouth soundlessly, wipe his palms on his jeans (again) and stare up at the ceiling. Jinhwan returns to his ice cream as he waits for Junhwe to collect his thoughts, swirling his spoon around in the pool of caramel mingling with melting vanilla.

“My friends kind of made a dating profile for me and set up a date for me and forced me to come here,” Junhwe finishes.

Jinhwan nods, wrinkling his nose as he takes a bite of ice cream. That explains a lot. “Same here.”

“Not that you aren’t a nice person or anything,” Junhwe blurts. “I’m not implying that you’re mean or anything. I think you’re nice. At least from the fifteen minutes we’ve been together so far.”

Jinhwan smiles, trying his best not to laugh at Junhwe’s floundering attempts at saving the conversation. He’s not upset, though, not when they’re in the same boat, although Junhwe doesn’t seem very comforted. “I pretty much figured it out when I saw the photoshopped profile picture.” Junhwe slowly begins to sink down in his chair. “And ‘likes small, cute people.’” He slides down even further, until Jinhwan can barely see his eyes above the table.

“That was Yunhyeong.” Jinhwan supposes that’s one of the friends who set up the profile.

“Also the fact that you actually requested to go on a date with someone whose ideal type was ‘someone sexy who looks good in jeans,’ but what else could I have expected from Bobby.” Junhwe looks remarkably like he’d like the floor to swallow him alive. Jinhwan feels bad for him, just a little.

  
  


Once they’ve finished eating and paid the bill, Jinhwan’s just turned to put his jacket back on when he hears the screeching sound of chair legs against the tile floor. He turns, just a little too late, to see Junhwe nearly sprinting to the entrance. The date hadn’t been that bad, had it?

Junhwe doesn’t, however, run out the door, instead leaning against it and holding it open, tense faux-nonchalance rolling off him in waves.

“Thanks.” Jinhwan smiles at him as he walks through the door. He hadn’t clocked the younger’s height when they’d first met, but he notices now that the top of his head barely clears Junhwe’s nose. Jinhwan’s already made his peace with his destiny to be the shorter man in most settings, but there’s something about this dynamic that gives him pause.

(Why, exactly, he’s not entirely sure, but he can puzzle that out later.)

Junhwe grumbles something unintelligible that Jinhwan supposes is an acknowledgement.

As they walk along the street together ( _Where are we going?_ Jinhwan almost wants to ask, but something tells him that Junhwe might not be capable of answering complex questions at the moment) Jinhwan notices a light brush against the back of his hand. 

He looks up, only to find Junhwe looking straight ahead, lips pursed. Junhwe’s other hand is shoved in the pocket of his jacket, so Jinhwan figures he’s either clueless as to what he’s doing or too embarrassed to make the first move. Then again, there’s a strong likelihood that it’s both.

Jinhwan makes the snap decision to go for it, folding Junhwe’s fingers neatly between his own. The younger’s hand is slightly clammy, and if Jinhwan were a lesser man he’d probably make a gracious excuse to pull away. As it stands, there’s something weirdly endearing about Junhwe’s youthful nervousness that tells him to keep holding on, finger-sweat and all.

(And Jinhwan’s not looking, not at all, but if held under duress he would say that yes, Junhwe’s legs do look quite nice in jeans, in a purely objective sort of way).

“It’s a date, so we should be holding hands,” Jinhwan says, half to tell Junhwe what’s going on and half to convince himself. 

“A date,” Junhwe echoes, his cheeks flushing red. 

Suddenly, Junhwe stops dead in his tracks, almost tripping Jinhwan in the process. “Oh,” he says, “I forgot the flowers back at the store.”

Junhwe releases Jinhwan’s hand and sprints back in the direction of the dessert shop—Jinhwan’s eyebrows raise high on his forehead as he watches Junhwe’s over-long limbs nearly take out an elderly couple.

Jinhwan takes this opportunity to wipe off his hand on his jeans.

A few moments pass before he realizes he’s not entirely sure when Junhwe’s coming back.

( _Or if he’s coming back at all_ , a traitorous part of Jinhwan’s mind cuts in, but Jinhwan tries to dismiss the thought. For all he knows, Junhwe’s clumsiness and general befuddlement could’ve been because he just wanted to leave as soon as possible, but he’d said Jinhwan was “nice,” hadn’t he?)

Jinhwan prefers to give him the benefit of the doubt, though, so when his stomach rumbles to inform him that _no, ice cream really isn’t all that filling,_ he turns to a nearby hot dog stand, ordering two. He figures that if Junhwe is coming back, it’d be nice to have a snack for him, and if he isn’t, he can make Bobby and Hanbin duel to the death for it to make up for setting him up with someone who'd ghost him.

He’s just sat down on a bench near the hot dog stand and taken a bite out of his hot dog when Junhwe comes running back, breathing heavily as he skids to a stop in front of Jinhwan.

“Sorry,” he says in between pants, brandishing what Jinhwan assumes used to be a bouquet of flowers. “Um, these are for you.” Junhwe pauses, assessing the state of the stems, petals falling out of the plastic wrapping onto the sidewalk. “They weren’t as damaged when I bought them.”

Jinhwan’s voice catches in his throat. “I think they’re nice,” he says.

He offers Junhwe the other hot dog.

It’s an equal enough exchange.

  
  


“So how was your—”

Jinhwan holds out his free hand, palm toward Hanbin as he takes a bite out of the sandwich he’s holding in the other.

“Do not ask me how my weekend was, you nosy-ass,” Jinhwan says, once he’s swallowed his food.

“Okay, we won’t then,” Bobby replies, grinning far too wide. “How was your d—”

“Nope!” Jinhwan puts his hand over Bobby’s mouth instead, muffling him before he can finish his sentence.

“Kinky,” Hanbin drawls. “Is that what you got up to?”

Something warm and wet prods at Jinhwan’s palm—disgusted, he pulls away. Bobby’s still smiling, tongue poking out from between his teeth.

“You two are _children,_ ” Jinhwan huffs. “Why do I even hang out with you two?”

“Because you love us,” Hanbin says.

“Speaking of love!” Bobby interjects, “How was the man of your dreams? We picked a good one, right?”

Jinhwan sighs. Might as well get this conversation over with now—it’ll only get worse the more he tries to avoid it. “It was nice. He was a little awkward, but it wasn’t too bad.”

“Boring.” Bobby rolls his eyes.

“Yeah!” Hanbin leans in close to Jinhwan, head propped up on his palms. “Give us all the details.”

“What are you two, middle school girls?” Jinhwan pushes Hanbin’s head away. “There aren’t a lot of details to give.”

“You know,” Bobby says, “like, how far did you guys go?”

“Did you kiss?” Hanbin asks. “My mom said you’re not supposed to kiss on the first date. She said it’s ungentlemanly.”

“Hanbin, taking dating advice from your mom is why you’re _still single—_ ”

Jinhwan makes the wise decision to not interrupt them, tuning out as Bobby and Hanbin bicker over Hanbin’s nonexistent love life.

His mind drifts off to Junhwe now that he can think in peace. They’d exchanged numbers and sporadic texts after their date (outing, platonic meeting between two bros), but the conversations haven’t exactly gone anywhere. Junhwe isn’t a much better conversationalist over instant messaging than he was in person, but he seems to express himself a little more freely through stickers and emoticons when Jinhwan sends him pictures of his dogs.

Things had gone well enough, though, that Jinhwan isn’t dissuaded from wanting to see Junhwe again—there’s a certain charm to Junhwe’s bumbling earnestness that makes Jinhwan feel strangely fond.

After ensuring that Hanbin and Bobby are still at it, but not in any imminent danger of coming to physical blows, Jinhwan takes out his phone and opens up his conversation with Junhwe.

 _hey_ he types out, _are you free next weekend?_

  
  


Before Jinhwan knows it, they’ve ended up meeting a second, third, and now fourth time, this time watching Jinhwan’s dogs frolic in the park.

(Well, Jinhwan’s been the one doing the inviting, so it’s really his fault that they’ve kept going out. But as awkward as Junhwe can be, he’s not bad company, and if nothing else Jinhwan has enjoyed spending time with someone who’s not his best friends. Jinhwan loves them, but sometimes he likes having a bit of a breather.)

 **_Bobbert Kim:_ ** _  
_ _hv fun with ur✧・ﾟ:* BOYFRIEND *:・ﾟ✧!!_

 **_Quailboy:_ ** _  
_ _loved this message_

Jinhwan grimaces at his phone, sliding it back into his pocket so he doesn’t have to look at the offending message anymore. “This is getting a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” he asks, mostly to himself, but Junhwe’s face scrunches up into a grimace regardless.

“It would be nice if Donghyuk would stop pestering me.” 

Jinhwan nods in sympathy, letting out a loud sigh. “Bobby keeps trying to meddle—it’s all Hanbin can do to stop him from spying on our dates.”

“I wish there was a way to get back at them.” Junhwe kicks at the wood chips scattered on the floor, a petulant pout on his lips. “Or at least to get them off our backs for once.”

The wheels in Jinhwan’s brain start spinning as he processes this information. “We could date,” he says, a little too quickly.

Junhwe tilts his head to the side, eyebrows raised in confusion. “Isn’t that what we’re right now? We are on a date, right?”

Well, Junhwe always seemed a little slow on the emotional uptake. “No. I mean, yes we are on a date, but what I meant was that we could pretend to date seriously.”

Junhwe’s foot stills. “So you mean we’re going to pretend to be in a relationship to get back at our mutually annoying meddlesome friends?”

Jinhwan grins. “Yeah, exactly.” It’s the perfect opportunity—both of them have troublesome friends that think they need to be in a relationship, so what better to do than get into a relationship?

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Junhwe lets out a small, awkward laugh. “Anything to get Donghyuk and Yunhyeong off my back.”

Jinhwan reaches over and interlocks his fingers with Junhwe’s, pulling the younger upright and closer to him. Junhwe nearly trips over, squeezing onto Jinhwan’s hand tight to steady himself before letting his grip slacken; Jinhwan keeps his own hold firm.

“If we’re going to pretend to be in a relationship, we first have to be comfortable holding each other’s hands,” Jinhwan says. The word _pretend_ sits oddly in his mouth, but he figures it’s just the novelty of the situation that makes it feel strange. He doesn’t make a habit of pretend-dating people, after all.

“Oh, right,” Junhwe replies.

Jinhwan swallows, contemplating his next move. “And it also means we have to be comfortable doing this.” 

Jinhwan has to tiptoe to reach, ignoring the flutter in his stomach as he presses a small peck to the corner of Junhwe’s lips. It’s over quickly, lasting barely a second, but the effect on Junhwe is instantaneous—his eyes widen and he immediately turns around, body shaking as he half-hyperventilates and half-coughs.

“It’s okay, we can work on that too,” Jinhwan laughs, affection blooming warm in his chest.

  
  


Perhaps if Jinhwan had paid more attention to Bobby’s litany of bro-stories in high school, he’d remember Bobby mentioning the underclassmen on his basketball team.

Perhaps he’d remember the stories about one underclassman in particular that Bobby seemed strangely fixated on, who never seemed to bend to any of Bobby’s misguided attempts at friendship.

(Perhaps he’d realize how suspicious it is that the one guy Bobby could never get a read on is the one he and Hanbin hand-picked for Jinhwan to date.)

But as it stands, Jinhwan has filtered out most of Bobby’s testosterone-filled rambling about his sports team endeavors over the years, so he doesn’t quite understand why Bobby keeps shooting furtive glances at Junhwe while they wait in line to buy their tickets at the movie theater.

Jinhwan’s not even sure how or why Bobby and Hanbin are here—he and Junhwe had discovered a mutual love for romantic dramas, while Bobby and Hanbin’s tastes lie firmly in the realm of “movies with loud noises and explosions,” and he definitely had not extended them an invitation when he’d mentioned that he and Junhwe were going to the movie theater that afternoon.

Hell, he hadn’t even told them which theater they were going to, what movie they were planning to see, or when the showtime was. This is not normal.

“Fancy seeing you here!” Hanbin says with far too much cheer when Jinhwan runs into the two of them at the concession stand. If it weren’t for the fact that Jinhwan’s spent far too much money on his popcorn to not eat it, he would’ve upended the bucket on their heads.

At the very least, his friends don’t try to sit too close to them during the movie, instead situating themselves a few rows back. _Small victories,_ Jinhwan thinks.

It’s still too close for comfort, though, and he’s not the only one who feels this way.

“How long is he going to do that?” Junhwe’s voice comes soft but terse through clenched teeth.

“Do what?” Jinhwan replies, trying to do his best to ignore the two elephants in the theater.

“That.” Junhwe tilts his head back a little, motioning to Hanbin and Bobby’s row; Jinhwan glances back, and catches a glimpse of Bobby staring rather resolutely at the back of Junhwe’s head instead of at the movie screen. Jinhwan gives him a gentle, reassuring pat on the knee (Junhwe chokes on his soda).

Hanbin latches onto him as soon as the movie’s over, pulling him off to the side while Bobby makes a beeline for Junhwe, slinging an arm over his shoulder while Junhwe looks about twenty different shades of uncomfortable. Jinhwan’s struck with a sudden desire to protect Junhwe from Bobby’s advances, which is quite strange given that Bobby is generally considered a friendly person by most standards and Junhwe can take care of himself. But still.

“What’d you think of the movie?” Hanbin asks, calling Jinhwan’s attention back to him.

“It was nice,” Jinhwan replies. “I mean, nothing groundbreaking, but nice. Did you like it? I’m surprised you came—I know it’s not really your thing.”

If Jinhwan sounds a little annoyed, neither he nor Hanbin mention it. Hanbin shrugs. “Yeah, I dunno. Bobby said he wanted to watch a movie, so here we are.”

“Hm.”

Hanbin turns his head to the side, catching sight of Junhwe and Bobby. The awkward tension rolls off the two of them in waves, and Jinhwan’s surprised Junhwe hasn’t spontaneously combusted from how he clearly seems to be repressing his desire to tear Bobby’s arm from its socket.

“Leave the poor kid alone,” Hanbin jokes as they walk over to the two. Bobby’s arm drops off from Junhwe’s shoulder; Junhwe immediately does the world’s quickest side-shuffle, gluing himself to Jinhwan’s side and lacing their fingers together. It’s all Jinhwan can do to keep his expression neutral instead of widening his eyes at the contact like he otherwise might—Junhwe’s never been the one to instigate physical contact between them, but maybe he’s just shocked from dealing with Bobby.

Hanbin and Bobby leave after they exit the movie theater, waving their goodbyes and promising that they should all hang out again sometime soon. Jinhwan makes no such agreements, but wishes them a safe trip back home. Junhwe remains resolutely silent, gripping Jinhwan’s hand like a lifeline.

“Sorry about that,” Jinhwan sighs as they walk in the other direction to the subway station. “I would have given you a warning about Bobby if I had known he and Hanbin were going to secretly tag along.”

“They bought it though, right?” Junhwe asks, his grip loosening. Jinhwan extricates his hand from Junhwe’s, flexing his fingers to get some blood pumping through them again.

Honestly, Jinhwan’s not entirely sure—he’s been avoiding the subject with the two of them as much as possible, but he can’t exactly discount the fact that they most likely came to spy on him and Junhwe. 

“Hanbin did,” he eventually settles on, because Hanbin is easily fooled by the slightest suggestion of romantic inclination. “So that means Bobby will.” Bobby is a tougher nut to crack—despite his often-idiotic antics, he’s quite perceptive when he wants to be. Jinhwan only hopes Bobby attributes Junhwe’s anxiety to his general social awkwardness rather than out of fear of their ruse being found out.

Their hands brush against one another as they walk; Junhwe reaches for Jinhwan’s hand again, his hold not so strangle-tight this time.

This time, Jinhwan can feel his face slip into surprise before he catches himself, schooling his features back into calm, pleasant neutrality. “You don’t have to hold my hand now if you don’t want to anymore, not when there isn’t anyone here.” Something about it makes his stomach turn a little uneasily, but that’s a feeling to parse out another time.

“It’s for practice.” Junhwe swings their arms between them a bit, and Jinhwan laughs.

“Okay, Junhwe. Whatever you say.”

  
  


It’s somewhere around date (hangout, meetup, just two dudes being friends) seven that Jinhwan starts to wonder that something might be up.

They’re out to dinner, at an Italian place that Junhwe picked out. It’s not a particularly upscale place, but it’s a little nicer than the cafes and hole-in-the-wall restaurants they’d been to previously. Jinhwan felt obligated to wear a collared shirt, as did Junhwe, although the younger seems markedly uncomfortable, tugging at his own collar until he eventually gives up and undoes the top two buttons of his shirt. Junhwe has nice clavicles, Jinhwan notes. That’s a perfectly normal thing to recognize in a friend, right?

That’s not the only thing. Even though Junhwe had been the one to plan their outing this time, he seems even more flustered than usual, stuttering to the point of near-incoherence when the waiter comes to take their orders, and Jinhwan caught him trying to cut his chicken parm with a spoon more than once.

“Are you okay?” Jinhwan asks, after he’s caught Junhwe staring at the ceiling for the fifth time. “You look distracted.”

Junhwe nods frantically. “I’m just fine,” he says, reaching for his glass of water, only for his hand to shake and send it spilling into the remnants of Jinhwan’s _pasta alle vongole._ “Sorry,” he ekes out in the tiniest, most abashed tone Jinhwan’s ever heard from him.

As disastrous as it is, Jinhwan can’t help but feel the already-soft spot he’d had for Junhwe grow even softer. Jinhwan chalks it up to his general affinity for small, cute animals (the fact that Junhwe is half a foot taller than him and probably better described as ‘cold and aloof’ in appearance notwithstanding—Junhwe, purely by virtue of being three years his junior, is Small and Cute, akin to a husky puppy, and Jinhwan will not hear any other arguments.)

“It’s fine,” Jinhwan says, as Junhwe tries valiantly to mop up the spill with his napkin. “I was full anyway.”

Junhwe insists on paying ( _“I invited you out, and I ruined your food!”_ ), and Jinhwan ends up accompanying him back to Junhwe’s home. They’re holding hands as they walk—Junhwe’s finally mastered the art of how firmly to hold, although his palms are still a little on the sweaty side.

They stop in front of Junhwe’s house. Junhwe’s digging for his keys when Jinhwan catches sight of the light blinking on in the window of the house across the street—one of Junhwe’s best friends lives there, if he recalls correctly.

Junhwe’s about to unlock the front gate when Jinhwan swallows heavily, tugs gently on Junhwe’s shirt.

“Remember?” he asks, tilting his head to gesture across the way. Junhwe follows his line of sight, scowling a little as he realizes what Jinhwan’s referring to.

“Oh, right.”

There’s absolutely nothing graceful about it—Junhwe’s stiff as a board as Jinhwan guides Junhwe down so they can kiss, grabbing onto Jinhwan’s arms at the last possible moment so he doesn’t fall over. This is by no means the first time they’ve kissed, but the occasions have been few and far between; Jinhwan tries not to think about the way Junhwe’s lips fit a little too perfectly against his own.

“Goodnight,” Jinhwan murmurs as they part, wondering why his heart’s suddenly beating in double-time.

Junhwe heads inside; Jinhwan watches through the window as the light turns on and Junhwe’s silhouette appears in the window. He wonders if Junhwe’s friend saw them, wonders if he’s asking Junhwe about his _date_ , if Junhwe like-likes Jinhwan. He imagines the responses that Junhwe would give, curt and tight-lipped until he eventually caves.

Jinhwan walks back to catch his bus, his insides twisting as he imagines Junhwe lying through his teeth, telling him _yeah, I like him, that’s why we keep going on dates_ and telling himself that this is fine—this is what they both wanted, after all.

  
  


“Soooo,” Hanbin says, slinging an arm around Jinhwan’s neck as he plops himself down on the bench next to Jinhwan. Bobby slides into the seat opposite them, grinning mischievously.

“So… what?” Jinhwan asks, refusing to rise to the bait.

“You and Junhwe.” Bobby raises up his hand, fingers split in a peace sign. “Are you two, y’know.” He twists his fingers together.

Jinhwan rolls his eyes. “Use your words, _Jiwon._ ”

Bobby says nothing, instead opting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.

“What he probably means to say,” Hanbin cuts in, “is are you two a thing? Like, actually a thing? Because the two of you have been hanging out or whatever for months now and we still haven’t gotten a clear answer out of you.”

Jinhwan inhales and holds it for a few moments before exhaling slowly. Hanbin’s right—he’s been skirting around the topic for a while, and it’s reached the point where holding back just seems suspicious.

“Yeah,” he says, ignoring the strange, hollow feeling in his chest. “I guess you could say we are.”

Immediately, Bobby and Hanbin erupt in a cacophony of shouts, joining hands across the table. Hanbin’s arm is still wrapped around Jinhwan’s shoulders, trapping Jinhwan in between them. Before he can protest, Hanbin’s nudged him off the bench with the inside of his arm when he and Bobby stand up, chanting some incoherent nonsense while they jump around him in a circle. Jinhwan’s grateful he tends to eat lunch at strange hours, because he doesn’t think he could ever show his face at this park again if there were any witnesses.

He closes his eyes, counting in his head as he waits for Hanbin and Bobby to get bored (he gets to ninety-three before they burn out, dropping their arms and sitting back on the bench, leaning listlessly against the table).

Jinhwan sits back down across from them, taking small, methodical mouthfuls of his fried rice while they recuperate.

Bobby’s the first one to recover, straightening up and adjusting his snapback. “So how’d you know?”

“Know what?”

“That you liked him, _duh._ ” Hanbin rolls his eyes. “We need the details.”

 _They really don’t_ , Jinhwan muses as he contemplates what to tell him. “It’s hard to say. We just kind of… clicked.”

“Hmm.” Bobby strokes his chin in mock-thought. “Y’know, he’s a pretty weird guy. Extremely awkward. I didn’t know that was your type, Nani, otherwise I would’ve introduced you two earlier.”

“Come again?” Jinhwan asks.

“What Bobby means,” Hanbin says (and Jinhwan’s not sure if he’s imagining that Hanbin’s pinching Bobby under the table, but Bobby _does_ wince and there’s no other explanation for it), “is that we thought we had your type all figured out, y’know? But Junhwe’s kind of… not that. No offense, hyung, but most of the other people you’ve dated were a little more…”

“Socially competent,” Bobby cackles, swatting Hanbin’s hands away.

“I’m not sure if _you’re_ in any position to judge Junhwe’s social aptitude.” Jinhwan purses his lips. “But I don’t date people based on their ability to schmooze it up, I date them based on how well I get along with them.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gonna have to get along with us, y’know?” Bobby grins, leaning against Hanbin’s shoulders. “Because we’re your best friends and all. He’s gonna be seeing a _lot_ of us.”

“Please,” Jinhwan sighs, “don’t antagonize the poor boy. He’s awkward enough around new people as it is.”

“Well, we’re not exactly _new—_ ”

Hanbin slaps a hand over Bobby’s mouth, muffling him; Bobby’s arms immediately start flailing, and the two of them fall off the bench and onto the grass below.

Jinhwan exhales long and slow, packing up his lunch container as he watches the two duke it out on the lawn. He’s successfully made it out of this conversation without divulging more than he needed to, but Hanbin’s quip has him thinking about whatever it is he and Junhwe have.

Hanbin and Bobby aren’t wrong. Junhwe’s not really his type—while his previous partners don’t have a ton of overlap with each other, he can safely say they were a lot less abrasive than Junhwe is. Quite frankly, if Jinhwan really thinks about it, he’s not sure that he and Junhwe ever would have dated if they’d met under different circumstances. Junhwe’s not an awful person, but he’s definitely difficult to get a read on, especially if you don’t take the right approach. If it weren’t for the fact that they were somewhat forced together by circumstances outside their control, Jinhwan likely would’ve thrown in the towel after the second date (platonic rendezvous, two pals just doing pal things).

But he hadn’t.

And this, really, is the most inexplicable thing of all—Jinhwan absolutely could have told Junhwe gently but firmly that he didn’t think it was going to work out between them and taken Bobby and Hanbin up on their offer to treat him to dinner instead of suggesting that they pretend to date each other.

But he hadn’t, and Jinhwan’s never really stopped to figure out why that is until—

Oh _no._

His blood runs icy in his veins as his mind helpfully supplies a barrage of memories of Junhwe, from his inability to hold eye contact for longer than five seconds at a time, to his perpetually clammy hands whenever they hold Jinhwan’s, to his over-loud laugh whenever he can’t find the right words to say, to the way Junhwe’s taller body frames Jinhwan’s smaller one like they were made for each other, all overlaid in a golden haze of heart-wrenching fondness.

He really does like Junhwe.

This is not good.

  
  


A smarter, more honest man than Jinhwan would’ve ended their arrangement immediately after his epiphany about his feelings. It’s not fair to Junhwe, after all—the younger only agreed to this so he could get his own friends to stop bothering him about his dating life, and he deserves the chance to be free and date people he actually _wants_ to date instead of some sucker he got stuck with on a dating app.

As it stands, Jinhwan is a little bit selfish, and wants to enjoy Junhwe’s company a little while longer (under the guise of needing their fake relationship to go on for at least another few weeks, otherwise it would look _too_ fake, because who breaks up immediately after telling their best friends they’re dating? Only a big fat liar, that’s who), so he doesn’t inform Junhwe about his mental turmoil, agreeing readily to Junhwe’s invitation to come over to his house to watch a movie.

Junhwe’s frowning when he opens the door to let Jinhwan in. Jinhwan’s about to ask why when two faces pop up around the corner, looking pointedly at him.

“Donghyuk and Yunhyeong,” Junhwe says, jerking his head at them in quick succession. “They invited themselves over and I didn’t get a chance to tell you before you got here. Too busy fending them off from raiding my fridge. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jinhwan places his hand on the small of Junhwe’s back. For some reason, Donghyuk lets out a tiny squeak at this, the bag of barbecue potato chips he’s holding crinkling as he grips it tighter.

Jinhwan exchanges light small talk with the two, finding them easy enough to get along with—Yunhyeong has a kind, stable sort of presence, and Donghyuk is positively bubbling with cheer (although he does catch Junhwe and Donghyuk making faces at each other out of the corner of his eye).

He’s just settled on the sofa next to Junhwe when the doorbell rings.

“Who on earth?” Junhwe mutters as he gets up to look through the peephole. Then, a few seconds later: “Why are you here?” his voice snaps at whoever’s at the front door.

Jinhwan looks up from the sofa as Bobby and Hanbin push past Junhwe into the house, feeling a headache come on as he watches Bobby wrap an arm around Donghyuk’s shoulder in an easy one-armed hug and Hanbin and Yunhyeong exchange nods. 

“Donghyuk invited me,” Bobby says by way of explanation. Junhwe scowls as Donghyuk immediately sticks to Bobby’s side, and if things were different, Jinhwan would probably laugh at the whole thing. Bobby’s always had a strange affinity for picking up underclassmen admirers (although Junhwe seems to be the lone exception).

Junhwe returns to the sofa, plopping down gracelessly and tucking his chin into Jinhwan’s shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so familiar, but it does, and Jinhwan feels all the guiltier for it. 

“I can’t believe your friends are stealing my friends,” Junhwe grumbles, adjusting his body so his arms are wrapped around Jinhwan’s torso, pulling him in close enough that Jinhwan can feel Junhwe’s breath against the back of his neck but far enough away that there’s limited physical contact between them. Jinhwan wishes he didn’t like it so much, reminding himself that Junhwe’s not doing this because he actually wants to—he’s only doing this because they have to put on a show, especially since all their friends are here.

He feels for Junhwe, he really does, because he’s under no illusions that if their friend groups end up in cahoots it’ll make both of their lives a living hell. Unfortunately, there’s no verbal comfort that Jinhwan can give him (not in present company, at least), so he settles for patting Junhwe’s thigh in what he hopes is a comforting manner as he turns his attention back to whatever’s on the television screen—it’s some anime he’s never seen before, and he squints at the subtitles when his high school Japanese fails him.

“Oh my god,” Donghyuk whispers far too loudly. “They’re _cuddling_ , Yunhyeong, _cuddling_.”

Junhwe groans, ducking his head further into Jinhwan’s neck. The strands of his fringe tickle against his nape, and Jinhwan can feel the rapidly-increasing warmth of Junhwe’s face against his skin.

“When will this be over?” Junhwe’s voice rumbles against him as Donghyuk continues to stare.

“Yeah, that’s what couples do, Donghyuk,” Yunhyeong says, “they cuddle.” Over the top of Junhwe’s head, Jinhwan catches sight of Hanbin snapping a photo; the shutter sound goes off, and Junhwe makes another pitiful noise. Jinhwan narrows his eyes at Hanbin, mouthing _you’re dead_ with exaggerated enunciation—Hanbin has the absolute gall to give him a thumbs up, while Bobby snickers next to him.

Mentally, Jinhwan sighs. If they’re all going to gawk, he figures he might as well give them something to look at. He turns, pressing the tiniest of kisses to Junhwe’s cheek, sending the younger’s face aflame and eliciting a collective gasp from the assembled crowd, not unlike how some might react when viewing a small baby animal at the zoo.

“He kissed him, Yunhyeong, _kissed him_.”

Jinhwan lets out a real sigh this time, running his fingers through Junhwe’s hair absentmindedly as Hanbin continues to unsubtly take pictures from the other end of the room.

It’s going to be a long afternoon.

  
  


Within two weeks of their impromptu inter-friend-group gathering, Jinhwan finally feels like he has space to breathe again. Bobby and Hanbin, faced with direct evidence that he and Junhwe are engaging in appropriately relationship-y activities, have let up on their teasing, no longer shooting Jinhwan side-eyes when the topic of dating comes up or making lewd passing hand gestures to try and get a rise out of him.

This means, though, that it’s time for his and Junhwe’s fake relationship to end. 

Jinhwan’s been dreading this moment for weeks, losing sleep as he frets over the best way to bring up the situation. Really, he’s probably overthinking things—Junhwe’s probably more eager than he is to get this over with.

Eventually, he ends up inviting Junhwe out to get bubble tea, settling down at a picnic table at the park nearby. Junhwe slurps noisily at the tapioca pearls, chewing pensively as he stares at a pair of dogs chasing each other in circles a short distance away. 

Jinhwan remains silent for a long while, trying to figure out how he’s supposed to start this conversation. _Hey, remember how we agreed to fake-date each other? Well it turns out I have real feelings for you now, so we should stop doing whatever we’re doing before I break my heart pining over someone who actually stuck to the terms of the agreement._

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, counting to five as he inhales and five again as he exhales. _Kind and direct_ , Jinhwan tells himself, adjusting his posture to sit up a little straighter.

“We should break up,” he says, startling Junhwe, who’d still been watching the dogs.

“What?” Junhwe asks, turning to face him, brow furrowed.

“We should break up,” Jinhwan repeats, trying his damnedest to keep his expression placid despite the turbulent emotions threatening to swallow him whole.

“Why?” Junhwe’s voice cracks a little at the end, and Jinhwan feels like his heart might be cracking, too.

“There isn’t really any reason for us to pretend to be together.” Jinhwan’s voice goes quiet, staring into his drink. He’s not sure if he can look Junhwe in the eyes, even though that’s the least the younger deserves. “Neither of us are being bothered by our friends anymore, so there’s no point in meeting anymore, either.”

“Oh.” Junhwe’s voice is flat and cold, sending a shiver down Jinhwan’s spine. “Okay then.”

“Junhwe,” Jinhwan ekes out helplessly. He’s not sure if it would make things better or worse if he explained exactly _why_ he’s breaking up with Junhwe, but the hurt in Junhwe’s voice stirs up the instinct to soothe and protect, to try and make everything okay (even though Jinhwan definitely doesn’t _feel_ okay).

“No, I get it,” Junhwe spits out, jaw clenched. “We don’t need to pretend to be in a relationship anymore because it’s served its purpose.”

“That’s not what I meant.” No, this is all wrong, this isn’t how Jinhwan wanted this to go—

“I’m sorry,” Junhwe scoffs. “What you meant is that we’ve— _I’ve_ —served my purpose, so there isn’t any point. It’s not like we were friends in the first place.” 

He rises from the bench, one fist clenched so tight the veins in his arm pop out, and Jinhwan can _see_ his body trembling as he walks away, his half-finished drink still on the table.

Jinhwan wants to get up and run after him, tell Junhwe that it’s really not his fault, it’s all Jinhwan and his stupid feelings, but his body refuses to move, staying resolutely still even as his mind sprints a million miles away.

He sits there for a long while after, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. Dimly, he’s aware of the few people around him giving him curious glances, but he’s in no real state to pay attention to them, not when he’s still reeling from what might be the worst breakup of his life ( _and it wasn’t even a real breakup_ , which makes it all the more pathetic.)

 _You’re just overthinking it,_ he tells himself once he finds that he’s able to move his limbs properly again, taking his and Junhwe’s cups and throwing them in the trash before heading for the bus back to his apartment.

But after he’s collapsed on his bed, his two dogs curling up next to him as his body shakes with the sobs he’s been holding in for the past hour, he wonders if maybe he hadn’t thought things through enough after all.

  
  


Jinhwan probably should have expected Bobby and Hanbin to stage some sort of intervention—he hadn’t told either of them that he’d “broken up” with Junhwe, but news seems to travel fast in their circle these days.

 _God_ , what a mess. Jinhwan hadn’t even considered the potential aftermath of a friend group combined under false pretenses, but it looks like he’s managed to make things weird for even _more_ people.

At least Hanbin has the decency to let Jinhwan know that they’ll be stopping over in fifteen minutes, giving Jinhwan just enough time to throw all his used tissues away properly in the bin instead of leaving them strewn about his coffee table and splash some cold water on his face in a weak attempt to look less like he’s been having a crying session for the past two days.

“Hey Nani,” Bobby says, pushing open the door. “What’s up?”

Jinhwan shrugs listlessly, leaning against the wall as his dogs yip excitedly at Hanbin and Bobby’s feet.

“We brought ice cream.” Hanbin holds up a plastic bag, multicolored wrappers peeking through the translucent white plastic. “For, y’know.”

“Thanks.” Hanbin holds open the bag; Jinhwan pulls out a wafer sandwich while Hanbin takes out a chocolate cone for himself and a melona bar for Bobby.

They eat in silence for a while, punctuated by the _crunch_ of Hanbin’s cone and the crinkling of plastic wrapping. Jinhwan chews on his ice cream, but finds that it somehow doesn’t taste like much of anything.

“So,” Hanbin breaks the silence, “Yunhyeong told me you broke up with Junhwe.”

“Yeah.” A drop of ice cream leaks out from the wrapper, running down Jinhwan’s hand; he lets it drip onto the table, too tired to catch it with his tongue.

“Dude, why?” Bobby asks. “You two were, like, really cute together. He seemed really into you.”

Jinhwan barks out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, right.”

“No, really.” Bobby’s face contorts into a confused frown. “I know what Junhwe’s like when he _doesn’t_ like someone, and he definitely wasn’t like that with you.”

“Well, maybe you just didn’t know him all that well,” Jinhwan snaps, feeling bad immediately after the words leave his mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbles. Bobby places a sugar-sticky hand on Jinhwan’s arm, nodding silently in acceptance.

“I don’t know what happened with you guys,” Hanbin says, “but I’m sure it’ll be okay. If it was meant to be, then things will find a way back together, and if it wasn’t meant to be, then you’ll be better off in the long run.”

Bobby’s eyes go wide with wonder. “Kim Hanbin, that might just be the most intelligent thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Well, maybe you just aren’t listening to me when I talk!”

Jinhwan cracks a small smile for the first time in what feels like an eternity as he watches the two bicker. While he’s ninety percent sure Hanbin’s advice was ripped directly from a self-help blog, there’s some truth to the statement (although he still can’t help but wonder if he’d thrown a wrench into the natural order of the universe), and even though it doesn’t take away the sting of heartbreak completely, it gives him a little something to hold on to.

“My mom’s making dinner because my brother’s back in town,” Bobby says, gathering up their ice cream wrappers and throwing them in the trash, “otherwise I’d stay longer.”

“Same here. Have to go to my cousin’s birthday party.” Hanbin scowls a little.

Jinhwan waves them off. “It’s fine, really. I’m not going to disappear just because you two have other life obligations. I’m a grown man.”

“Aww,” Bobby coos, immediately reaching over to grab Jinhwan in a headlock, “but you’re so _tiny!_ ”

“Hey!” Jinhwan protests, as Hanbin joins in on the other side, turning the whole thing into a group-hug affair.

“Don’t worry,” Hanbin says, “we’ll always be here for you. Tininess and all.”

Jinhwan sighs, a thousand parts exasperated and fond.

  
  


Jinhwan really doesn’t know why Bobby and Hanbin are incapable of going to the grocery store by themselves—they’re all grown men, even if the two of them don’t often act like it—but try as he might it’s difficult to resist when he’s all but carried out his front door.

Part of him is grateful for the distraction. It’s been two weeks since he broke up with Junhwe (two weeks since he wasn’t able to get out everything he’d wanted to say, two weeks since Junhwe looked at him with so much hurt in his eyes) and he hasn’t done much else besides the bare minimum for survival. It’s kind of pathetic how much this has gotten to him—he and Junhwe weren’t even _actually_ dating, so he really shouldn’t be this upset about it.

He wanders down the ice cream aisle, figuring that if nothing else, he can grab himself a pint to drown his sorrows in, and is midway though puzzling out what the difference is between chocolate chip and chocolate chunk when he bumps into someone standing in the middle of the walkway. 

“Sorry,” he says reflexively, glancing up as the person turns around, revealing himself to be none other than Goo Junhwe. Jinhwan’s eyes widen, staggering back a step in shock. Suddenly, his friends’ insistence that he accompany them to the store only to immediately abandon him makes sense. He’s going to kill them.

Junhwe yanks open one of the freezer doors and grabs a carton of ice cream without looking at it, turning to leave without sparing Jinhwan a second glance.

As transparent as the attempt is to push Junhwe and himself back together again, Jinhwan thinks he’d be a fool not to take the chance while he can.

“Wait, Junhwe,” he calls, teeth worrying at his lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

Junhwe turns, walking back towards him. “Yeah, okay. Were you ever going to apologize if our friends didn’t meddle again?” Even though Junhwe’s face tends to naturally settle in a rather displeased expression, he looks tired. Sad. It makes Jinhwan’s heart clench painfully in his chest.

“I thought it would be easier,” Jinhwan replies, voice weak even to his own ears. 

“Easier for you or for me?” Junhwe’s tone is dry, cutting, dismissive—Jinhwan knows him well enough to know that he’s putting on a front. “You could have at least called or texted me,” he murmurs, and Jinhwan’s heart cracks a little, because _that’s_ the Junhwe he knows.

“I’m sorry, Junhwe,” Jinhwan says, “I just thought it would be best if we broke up because it was unfair.”

“Unfair? You mean because I obviously liked you and you didn’t like me back?” Junhwe scoffs, nose wrinkling. There’s the defensiveness back again, and Jinhwan’s starting to realize that everything may have just been one colossal misunderstanding.

“What? No, I broke up with you because I thought it was unfair to keep on pretending to date you when you didn’t like me back.”

“Wait, you thought I didn’t like you back?” One of Junhwe’s eyebrows raises, incredulous.

Jinhwan nods, watching Junhwe’s face cycle through about fifteen different emotions in rapid succession, until he eventually lands once again on confusion.

“I thought you didn’t like _me_ back.”

“Why would you think that?” Jinhwan frowns. Sure, he’d certainly been the one to deal the final blow to their non-relationship, but didn’t think his advances were _that_ difficult to read.

“You kind of implied that when you told me that ‘there was no point’ anymore,” Junhwe mutters. Mentally, Jinhwan kicks himself—he really should’ve known that Junhwe would’ve taken things exactly the way he _didn’t_ mean them.

“Wait,” Junhwe says, brow furrowing, “did you just imply that you do like me back?”

Jinhwan nods again, waiting for the pieces to fit together in Junhwe’s head, too.

“Oh,” Junhwe says. “ _Oh_ ,” he repeats, eyes widening.

Jinhwan feels himself smiling before he can catch himself, familiar, soft (and exasperated—Junhwe was always a little slow on the uptake) affection stirring inside him. 

“Does this imply that we’re going to get back together? For real this time?” Junhwe’s voice teeters on hyper-hopeful, strained around the edges, and Jinhwan reaches out to wrap his arms around Junhwe, tiptoeing slightly to rest his chin on the younger’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just assumed.” Junhwe stiffens momentarily at the contact, but softens soon after, tucking his nose into Jinhwan’s neck. “But yes, for real this time.”

  
  


“So?” Bobby asks, wiggling his eyebrows in a particularly horrifying undulation.

“Yeah,” Hanbin chimes in, wide grin already past the border of maniacal.

Jinhwan shoves his carton of caramel ripple into Hanbin’s chest, steering them towards the checkout line. “I hate you both.”

Hanbin and Bobby high-five each other. Jinhwan only smiles a little bit.

  
  


Despite their reconciliation, he and Junhwe haven’t actually had the chance to spend any time together—Jinhwan had gotten so caught up in their dating situation that he’d nearly forgotten about exam season. Another couple of weeks pass in a blurry haze of study guides and too much coffee (although it is punctuated by cutely encouraging messages to each other, so that’s something, at least).

To Jinhwan’s surprise, it’s Bobby who instigates their next meetup in coordination with Donghyuk, who’d jointly decided that they should all get together to celebrate the end of the semester. Jinhwan couldn’t come up with a reason _not_ to go, so he finds himself sitting in a dimly-lit booth in a fried chicken restaurant next to Junhwe, who gives Jinhwan a small smile when he sees him.

Mercifully, none of the conversations center around him and Junhwe, and Jinhwan’s content to listen as Yunhyeong gives a dramatic reenactment of the guy in his stats class who’d finished his final insanely early only to run back in ten minutes before the exam period ended to beg with the professor because he’d forgotten to look at the other side of the handout.

Jinhwan laughs, more than he has in a long time, and when he glances at Junhwe the younger seems brighter, too (despite the fact that Bobby keeps trying to get Junhwe to laugh at his jokes only to earn himself a wadded-up napkin to the head).

Jinhwan and Junhwe end up walking side by side again once they leave the restaurant, the other members of the pack loitering behind them. Bobby’s opted to regale Donghyuk with one of his many high school basketball stories, and Donghyuk asks animated questions in all the right places. Jinhwan’s just glad that Bobby’s finally found someone who embraces his quirks instead of him trying to foist his attention on someone who very clearly wants nothing to do with it.

He’s mulling over the events of the evening when he notices a faint touch against the back of his hand once, twice, three times—he looks up at Junhwe, finding the younger’s cheeks flushed red, and a soft smile makes its way onto Jinhwan’s face.

Suddenly, Jinhwan finds his palm swallowed up by Junhwe’s grasp, grip a little too tight and a little too sweaty. Call him crazy, but Jinhwan’s missed this.

Behind them, Jinhwan hears a camera shutter go off and a round of stifled laughter, followed by Donghyuk’s fierce whisper of “They’re holding hands, Yunhyeong. _Holding hands_.”

“Yes Donghyuk, that’s what couples do. Hold hands.”

“Really?” Junhwe yells over his shoulder, exasperated, but Jinhwan can hear the mirth in his tone. “C’mon—Kim Donghyuk, _do not stick your tongue out at me_ —”

Things quickly devolve into a four-way shouting match after that (Yunhyeong wisely keeps himself out of the fray, as does Jinhwan), but despite the chaos around them, Jinhwan can’t help but feel that this is how it’s supposed to be.

And Jinhwan wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> me, to rei, as my ficmix fic is due in 4 days: hey maybe i should write this fic in bobby's pov bc isn't it SUSPICIOUS that he and hanbin set jinhwan up with bobby's old basketball teammate-----
> 
> also, sorry for the no chanwoo content :/ the original fic was written in the very early days of ikon's existence so none of the mix & match boys made an appearance at all. i promise i don't hate him!!
> 
> thank you for reading, and i hope you all enjoyed this ^^
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/soft_coups)


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